Moonchild
by Joyful
Summary: Jeff Shafer's been away from Stoneybrook for over a year, and when he returns, he finds that not everything is the way he left it. slash, eventual JeffByron
1. Chapter 1

Title: Moonchild

Author: Joyful ( )

Fandom: Baby-Sitter's Club

Pairing: Byron/Jordan

Rating: PG-13ish for now?

Disclaimer: Ann M. Martin and Scholastic own them, not I. Please don't sue, 'cause then I can't go to Otakon!

Summary: Jeff comes back to Connecticut after a year in California, to discover some changes among his old friends.

Notes: "Laertes" has been scrapped. Basically, (thanks to the other Joy's suggestion), I've taken the things I liked about it and am adapting them into something completely new. This is separate from all my other fics. This is for Joy, 'cause she rocks, and my wife Bunnie-Wan Kenobi. And also the most kick-ass beta of them all- Ms. Moon. Also, kicks damn plotbunnies I couldn't stop writing through 2 and a half classes today, when I should have been taking notes.

Ch. 1+

Jeff Shafer pulled his beat-up van into the SHS parking lot. In the past year he'd only been back to Stoneybrook for Christmas, because he'd been so busy. Mr. Shafer had been diagnosed with testicular cancer, and Jeff had volunteered to take care of Gracie, with Dawn off in Africa, saving the world as usual. So he helped out at home, while Carol went back to work full time, and Mrs. Bruen took care of Jeff's dad. But now that his dad had recovered and was back at work, Sharon Spier had asked Jeff to come back to Stoneybrook for his junior year.

So here he was, sixteen-years old-- although sometimes he felt much older— and back in Connecticut, at least for the school year. He'd gotten his driver's license back in Palo City, and his dad had given him enough money to buy himself a car. He'd been back in Stoneybrook for almost a week, but hadn't seen any of his friends yet. He'd been too busy unpacking, buying the beat-up old van with a pretty good engine, and convincing Richard that no, he didn't need a haircut. Richard had loosened up a lot after six years with Sharon, but he still had a long way to go. Still, Jeff knew that Richard did care, and was trying, so Jeff decided to cut the mad a little slack. He wasn't going to cut his hair, though.

Jeff stretched as he climbed out of "Becky," as he'd named his van. He kicked a pebble lightly with his Birkenstocks, and slung his green army-surplus messenger bag over his shoulder and shut the van door. He stuck his hands deep into the pockets of his old khaki cut-offs. His tanned, muscled calves showed strength from years of surfing. He wore an old Crash Test Dummies shirt with a puka-shell necklace, his wrists adorned with frayed hemp bracelets. His thick, white-blonde hair hung loose down to his shoulder blades. Jeff walked casually towards the main office. He'd gotten his schedule and locker assignment in the mail, but since he'd spent his sophomore year in California, he had to bring the school some papers with his transcripts and transfer forms and immunization records. He vaguely remembered where everything was from his freshman year at SHS.

Jeff recognized some people he knew as former BSC charges, and from the BSC summer day-camps. He spotted Becca Ramsey and waved at her. She'd grown up a lot since their "adventure" on that island all those years ago. He saw Jackie Rodowsky, only slightly surprised to see the redhead with his hair spiked up into a mohawk wearing a studded collar around his neck. With all the punks he knew back in California, he wasn't surprised Jackie had become one. The younger boy never really fit in, and he was pretty much a one-man mosh pit growing up. He admired the tight plaid bondage trousers and combat boots the other boy wore as they passed in the hall, and Jeff made a mental note to strike up a conversation with the boy later.

Jeff made his way towards the office and got everything squared away, although he did wind up missing homeroom. He got a parking pass for Becky and headed off to class. He had American History first, which was a class he usually enjoyed, being a bit of a history buff. He was almost late, but made it just in time and settled into a seat near the back. He noticed the "token goth kid" sitting in the back corner of the room. The boy looked so very familiar, but Jeff just couldn't place him. He wore platform boots with too many buckles, black bondage pants with chains, a fishnet shirt with a black wife-beater over it, and a bunch of jelly bracelets. His face had a light dusting of white powder, black lipstick and black eyeliner. As Jeff studied the boy's face, it clicked. That was a Pike triplet! When the teacher called roll, the boy indeed answered to "Pike, Byron." Jeff was somewhat amazed. When had Byron pierced his eyebrow? He stared at the boy for the remainder of the class, watching the boy with the spiked black hair take notes. The more Jeff watched Byron and thought about it, the less shocked he really was. Byron had always been the quiet one, content to read Poe and King and horror novels, and listen to darker music than his brothers. Thinking back, Jeff wasn't all that surprised that Byron had "gothed out," but he was surprised he hadn't heard about it. Jeff and the triplets still emailed every couple weeks, and this seemed like a somewhat major change. Jeff had no problem with goths, he hung out with a few back in California. He was familiar with the scene, liking some of the music, even if he didn't understand all of the gothic subculture. He had been raised to never judge people according to their lifestyle, and he had to admit that Byron looked good as a goth.

After history, he had creative writing, and found Byron in that class as well, along with another Pike triplet. He slipped into the seat next to the boy, wanting to talk a bit before roll was called.

"Jeff? Wow, I knew you were coming back this year; it's good to see you! Why didn't you write more, man?"

"Hi. . . Adam?" Jeff said tentatively, and the boy nodded his head. "Sorry, dude. I didn't have a lot of time after my dad got sick."

"How's he doing?" Adam asked, genuine concern in his voice. He drummed his fingers on his sketchbook, glancing over at his brother, who seemed to be pretending not to listen.

"He's much better now," Jeff said. "He's in remission, and back at work. Mom missed me, so it was decided I'd come here for the school year." Adam nodded, but didn't have time to respond as the teacher started to call roll. The teacher decided to throw them straight into work, by assigning them to write a paragraph on any feeling they'd experienced in the past week. Jeff wrote the assignment down, and stood up. He had another class before lunch.

This time Adam was in it—art class—but Byron wasn't. Adam briefly mentioned that Byron was taking photography this semester instead painting. SHS offered a wide variety of different classes, though not as many as Jeff's alternative high school back in California. As they walked towards class, Jeff asked Adam the question burning in his mind.

"Adam, how long has Byron been goth?" Adam sighed.

"Well, it's happened gradually over the past year, although I think it was building up even before then. Mom thinks it's a phase, and Dad thinks he's just trying to express his individuality from the rest of our giant family. His taste in music changed, got even darker than it already was. He always read those creepy novels, remember?" Adam asked, and Jeff nodded. "Well, he's gotten more and more into the whole death thing. He's really into vampires and zombies, and some really morbid shit. I was surprised, because he used to be such a scaredy cat."

"Yeah," Jeff said. "I asked him once, a couple of years ago, why he suddenly liked Stephen King. He said that once he understood why the stories were being written, once he got into the authors heads, they weren't so scary anymore."

"Yeah, well," Adam said, "he started to wear a lot of black, and listen to different music. He begged mom to let him pierce his eyebrow a few months ago, and she finally gave in. The make-up is a fairly new development. He's still a great guy," Adam insisted, defending his twin. "He's just going through some shit right now, but being Byron he won't talk to us about it. He just bottles everything up."

"Some of my friends back in Palo are goths or punks or metalheads. There's nothing wrong with it, it's just what they're into," Jeff declared, and Adam smiled.

The triplets had been growing apart lately, and it bothered Adam a lot. Jordan was into football, wrestling, Haley Braddock, and partying. Adam was into baseball, art, debate club, and anime. And Byron was into his own little world. He had a few friends, but spent a lot of time on his own. Out of all the Pikes, he spent the most time with Vanessa, who also wore a lot of black, and read the same poetry as her brother. Adam relayed these facts to Jeff, while they painted.

After class, Jeff followed Adam to lunch. Adam sat at a table and was joined by Charlotte Johannsen, Carolyn Arnold, James Hobart, David Michael Thomas, Jackie Rodowsky and Vanessa. Byron and Betsy Sobak—who Jeff noted was also dressed gothic—sat at the other end of the table. Jeff saw Jordan, who waved at him, but sat down at the next table, pulling Haley into his lap. Becca and Kerry Bruno sat down next to them, and they were soon joined by Shea Rodowsky and the rest of the football team.

"So, Jeff," James said, his rich Australian accent lilting in the air. "Are you glad to be back?" he asked.

"Yeah, I guess," Jeff said. "I mean, I'll get homesick when it gets cold, but there are people and things I miss on both coasts."

"Your hair's gotten so long," Charlotte said softly, her nose in a book even while she ate. "Like Galahad the Pure." Jeff chuckled a bit at that.

"Thanks." They all talked while they ate. Jeff ate his salad, and wished he had more food, but the school's vegetarian options were very limited. Jeff was sure that if it hadn't been for his older sister's activism, SHS wouldn't even have a vegetarian menu. He decided he'd be brown-bagging it in the future.

In fifth period, Jeff had a study hall, and was pleased to find Byron sitting by himself when he reached the library. Byron was listening to his black iPod and writing in a notebook. Jeff slid into the seat next to the other boy, and lightly tapped Byron's hand, noticing the black nail polish for the first time. Byron jumped a bit, and pulled out one ear bud.

"Hi," Byron said softly.

"What are you listening to?" Jeff asked.

"Placebo," Byron said, looking down into his notebook.

"Ah, good band. Glam rock is good," Jeff said, then sighed a bit. "I missed you." Byron didn't answer.

"You stopped writing," Jeff said, a tinge of sadness in his voice. "Your letters made me happy. But then they just stopped."

"I'm sorry," Byron said in a small voice. He started to doodle a skull and crossbones on his notebook. "Stuff happened. I couldn't talk to anyone for a while."

"You can talk to me," Jeff said. Byron took a breath, and looked Jeff in the eyes for the first time all day.

"Not yet," Byron said. "Vanessa knows some of it, and Betsy knows a bit more. But there's stuff I can't say yet." Byron said, looking down again. Jeff took it all in.

"Okay. You look good like this, Byron, it suits you. I just wish you didn't look so sad." Byron looked up and smiled.

"Well, it seems an old friend of mine has come back to town, so maybe I'll cheer up soon," Byron said. He stood up and put his notebook into his messenger bag that had been made out of duct tape. "I'll talk to you later Jeff, I have to go meet Betsy." He ran off quickly, and Jeff was left alone in the library.

Jeff didn't see Byron again that day, and before long school was over. He climbed into Becky and went off to do some shopping. He needed things for living in Connecticut, and things for school. He'd saved up enough money working part time in California to buy a bunch of things. He also wanted to decorate Becky. He stopped by the Salvation Army, and picked up an old mattress and some curtains, and turned the back of his van into a makeshift bedroom. He also picked up some warmer clothes, knowing he'd need them eventually. Around five, his stomach started to growl loudly, so he headed home for supper.


	2. Chapter 2

-+Ch. 2+-

School started on a Wednesday, and by Friday Jeff felt like he had never left. It was amazing how easily everything slipped back into place, his spot between his old friends. Except for Byron. When Jeff was in California, if you had asked him who his best friend was, he'd have answered back, "Byron Pike, back in Connecticut." But now that he was back, Byron was avoiding him. Byron sat at the end of the table at lunch, and Betsy was so busy chattering with him that Jeff never had much of a chance to talk to him.

On Saturday, Adam invited Jeff over to hang out. As Jeff walked up to the Pike's front door, he saw Byron and Betsy sitting out on the lawn. Betsy held a black parasol over herself, while Byron sat back on the grass talking to her. They were playing some kind of music that sounded like punk rock with cellos. Byron was wearing a long-sleeved black and white striped shirt with thumb-holes cut into it, with a pair of black bondage pants, and black boots. He had dangly skull earring in one ear, and a small dagger in the other, and Jeff wondered why he hadn't noticed earlier that Byron's ears were pierced.

"Hey," Jeff said, looking over at Byron.

"Hey," Byron replied.

"Eep! Ordinary! Must hide!" Betsy yelled, pretending to be afraid of Jeff, she had a bit of a laugh in her voice, though, as she lowered her parasol to shield her from the blonde. Jeff laughed a bit.

"I guess I can settle for ordinary," Jeff said. "Just thank Buddha you didn't call me Normal," Jeff said, with a twinkle in his eye. Betsy actually raised the parasol above her head to look at Jeff.

"You're a Buddhist?" She asked, curiously.

"Yeah. Have been for years," Jeff said. "Out of all the paths I've been exposed to, it made the most sense to me." Jeff studied Byron's face. Byron of course knew all about Jeff being a Buddhist, but apparently had hadn't talked about it with Betsy.

"I'm Wiccan," Betsy said. "So is Byron, right By?" she said, nudging him.

"I study," Byron said. The song changed and Byron smiled a bit.

"What are you listening to?" Jeff asked.

"Rasputina, 'Brand New Key'," Byron said. Betsy jumped to her feet and grabbed Byron's hand. They started to dance, and Jeff was enjoying the music. It was also the first time since he'd gotten back that he saw Byron smile.

//At least she makes him happy,// Jeff thought to himself. The song switched over to "Saline the Salt Lake Queen," and Jeff felt compelled to bang his head to the beat while they danced. This music wasn't so bad.

"Awww," Jeff heard a sarcastic voice say. "The little freaks are throwing a party." Jeff looked up to see Shea Rodowsky and three other football players standing around, sneering.

"Eww," Betsy said, with an exaggerated shudder. "The Jockstrap Army approaches. I thought I felt my IQ drop."

"Bitch," one of the boys that Jeff didn't know said, glaring at Betsy.

"Thank you," Betsy said. Byron laughed.

"What are you laughing at, Freak," another boy said, and Jeff recognized the boy as Jerry Haney. Shit.

"Don't call him a freak, Haney," Jeff heard himself say, standing up. It had been six years, but just the sight of Jerry made Jeff's blood boil.

"Shafer," Jerry said, with a snort. "Just when I thought we were free of you for good. Nice hair. I wonder who's the bigger fag—the dead body over there, or you with your Barbie doll hair." Jeff, who normally let everything roll off his back like water, felt his blood begin to boil. Jeff had always made it a point to never hate anyone, knowing that every human deserved equal love, but he just couldn't convince himself to believe that about Jerry Haney. Jeff hated Jerry Haney because he hated who he became when Jerry Haney was around. He clenched his hands into fists, but before he had a chance to retaliate, Adam and Jordan appeared and maneuvered themselves between the two groups.

"Come on, let's go," Jordan said to his teammates.

"I asked the pansy-boy a question," Jerry drawled out.

"Drop it Haney," Jordan said, shooting a look back towards Byron and Jeff.

"But I—"

"_Drop it!_," Jordan hissed. "We're leaving." Jerry shot another glare at Jeff, but dutifully followed Jordan. Adam looked over at Jeff, Byron and Betsy.

"Hey, Byron, Jeff and I were going to see a movie, do you guys want to come?" Adam asked.

"They're showing a 'Children of the Corn' marathon at the Rialto," Betsy supplied, a slightly hopeful tone to her voice.

"Sounds good to me," Jeff said, and Adam nodded.

"Okay," Byron said. Jeff moved to walk next to Byron, as was habit, but Betsy maneuvered herself between them, chattering away about one thing or another. Jeff wasn't actually paying attention, as they climbed into his van. He gave Betsy the front seat, since she was wearing a dress, and Byron and Adam sat on the mattress in the back.

"So, I see Jerry Haney hasn't changed a bit," Jeff said with a bit of a growl.

"No, he's still an insufferable asshole," Adam said. He looked over at his brother, who was sitting against the rear door of the van, his knees to his chest, and his arms around them.

"I really can't stand that guy," Jeff said, his knuckles gripping the steering wheel tight as he pulled into the parking lot of the Rialto. They bought their tickets and snacks, and went into the theater. Jeff sat next to Adam, and hoped Byron would sit on his other side, but Byron let Betsy in first, and sat on the end. Betsy rested her head on Byron's shoulder, holding his hand, until other people came in and sat in front of them. Jeff felt a little irritation that Betsy had snuck in and stolen his place in Byron's life, but at the same time, Jeff was happy Byron had a girlfriend, even if she was a little weird.

"I can't see over the giants," Betsy complained, and convinced Byron to switch with her. As she settled in on Byron's other side, she pressed her lips against Byron's ear, and whispered. "You need to talk to him. Stop avoiding and deal with it. He's a good guy, By, and you need to trust that he won't turn on you." Byron nodded, but glowered. He didn't think he was ready.

Jeff saw Byron bite his lip, and offered his friend some popcorn. Byron reached for some, and his hand brushed against Jeff's, and Byron jerked away as though he'd been burned. Jeff reached into the popcorn, and pulled out a silver ring in the shape of a skull, with red gems for eyes. Linda Hamilton was screaming on screen, as Jeff reached for Byron's hand, and slid the ring onto Byron's finger.

"Thanks," Byron whispered. Jeff nodded, and the two sat in silence for the rest of the afternoon.

-End-


End file.
